


Life, Death and Love

by p399_sherlockwriter



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Depression, Developing Relationship, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p399_sherlockwriter/pseuds/p399_sherlockwriter
Summary: Mycroft Holmes is happy in his relationship with Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade. When he receives a call from his ex-girlfriend June, his whole life turns upside down. Mycroft is forced to cope with difficult situations and feeling with the help of his friends and family. TW: Please heed the tags! The story gets pretty dark but has a happy ending!
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Folks! This is my first story, I hope you all like it! I already have other chapters written, so I plan to update frequently! Thanks in advance for reading, hope you enjoy :)

Life, Death and Love  
Chapter 1

Mycroft Holmes had been dating Gregory Lestrade for three months. He’d known that he was in love with him two weeks in, and the feelings he had for him kept getting stronger everyday. The only barrier in their relationship was Mycroft’s ex lover, June.

Before he came out as bisexual, he had only ever had relationships with women. The last woman that he had seen before Greg was a much younger woman named June. He was in a bad place when he met her and she knew just the way to take his mind off of things. Their relationship was almost exclusively physical. He would meet up with her at her apartment and they would get takeaway and then they would hook up, and he would leave. They both knew they weren’t in love but the relationship that they shared was one they both felt they needed at the time.

When Mycroft first started working more closely with Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade, he was simply trying to keep closer tabs on his younger brother. Sherlock always seemed to find trouble at every corner, and Mycroft had always known it was because Sherlock actively sought out danger any way he could. The more Mycroft worked with Greg, the more he started to realize how much he missed the detective when they were apart. That was when he broke things off with June. He stayed on friendly terms with her, both of them understanding that whatever it was they had was never going to be long term.

************************************

One month into his relationship with Greg, they were sitting on the couch in Mycroft’s extravagant living room watching a movie and snogging. Mycroft’s phone ringing interrupted them.

“Just ignore it Myc. You’re off the clock!” Greg whispered into Mycroft’s ear. Mycroft sighed.

“You know I have to check who it is darling. It could be a matter of national importance.” Greg whined as Mycroft pulled away to retrieve his mobile from the side table. He looked down at his phone and was surprised to see the caller ID read: June. He contemplated letting it go to voicemail in favour of returning to his previous activities with his current boyfriend. He decided that June wouldn’t be calling him if it weren’t important and figured that the right thing to do would be to answer.

“I’m sorry love, I really do have to take this.” Mycroft said, getting up from the sofa and heading towards the kitchen.

“Make it quick, I wasn’t finished yet!” Greg pouted from the living room.

Mycroft chuckled to himself as he hurried to get out of earshot of his detective boyfriend before finally picking up the call.

“Good evening June, I wasn’t expecting your call. Is everything alright?”

There was a brief moment of silence from the other end and Mycroft thought he heard sniffling. “Hi Mycroft...I didn’t know if you’d take my call. I…Erm… I hope I haven’t interrupted anything important….”

Mycroft’s mind immediately went to deducing the reasoning for the phone call. Scratchy voice: she had been crying. Long pauses: nervous. She clearly had something to tell him that was both upsetting to her and she was scared to tell him about it.

“No it’s alright. I’m not at work, what is it that you wanted to tell me?”

Another long pause at the other end. “Right. Well… I went to the doctor last week and erm.. And well I’m 12 weeks pregnant. It’s yours” June practically whispered.

Mycroft was frozen in shock. Pregnant? His? He thought that they had been careful, but he also knew that these sorts of things weren’t all that uncommon. He began to panic internally. What was he supposed to do? He had been with June when his depression was at an all time low and now as consequence he would have a child with her. How would he tell Greg? Could he tell Greg? Would Greg leave him? The thought of that brought tears to his eyes. He was finally happy again after all of those months in darkness.

“Mycroft? Oh I’m so sorry Mycroft! I didn’t mean for this to happen!” June said tearfully.

That was enough to pull Mycroft back from his own thoughts and worries. “No, no don’t apologize. It’s not your fault; or rather it’s both of our fault’s. What… what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know! I really don't, this just happened and I’m not ready and you probably don’t even want any part of this!” She sobbed.

“Shhh, shhh please don’t cry. Of course I want to be part of this. It’s just as much my responsibility as it is yours. Just take a deep breath and let’s talk about this.” Mycroft soothed. He was scared shitless but he could only imagine how June was feeling.

Mycroft and June talked on the phone for another hour and a half and June decided she really did want to keep the baby. Mycroft agreed to help her in any way she wanted him to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is heavy. Lots of angst, things always get worse before they can get better. Thanks for all the kudos in the last chapter! Now without further ado, here's the next chapter!

_ Life, Death and Love _

_ Chapter 2 _

By the time Mycroft had finished on the phone and returned to Greg, he found him sleeping peacefully on the sofa. He looked lovling at his boyfriend and wondered to himself if it would be the last time. He knew he had to tell Greg what had just transpired, but he thought it could wait at least until morning, over a nice breakfast and a cup of tea.

He bent down and gently shook his lover’s shoulder to wake him. “C’mon love, it’s late. Time for you to go home and go to bed.”

Greg opened his sleepy eyes and gazed up sleepily, yet happy at Mycroft. His gaze quickly shifted to one of worry as he took in Mycroft’s current state. He looked exhausted and slightly pale, like he had just come from one of his high stress meetings. He remembered Mycroft going to take a phone call and him being gone for a long time.

“Hey Myc, everything alright? Sorry I fell asleep on you, I meant to stay up and wait for you to get back.”

Mycroft smiled at him sadly “Yes, everything is perfectly alright. I can arrange for a car to take you back to yours if you feel too tired to drive. Then tomorrow morning I can have one bring you back so you can have breakfast with me and pick up your car.”

Greg couldn’t miss the pain in Mycroft's voice as he spoke. He assumed that the phone call had been a difficult one and that Mycroft was in his own head stressing, as he so often did after being faced with problems from work.

“Do you wanna talk about it? You seem upset, I don’t want to leave you here alone.” Greg said, concerned.

Alone. That’s exactly what Mycroft expected to be after he told Greg the truth about June. It was too much to bear. He didn’t want to be alone, he wanted Greg. He wanted Greg to help him through all of his problems, to reassure him that everything would be ok. 

“Oh Gregory.” He said and he burst into tears. Greg immediately got up and pulled Mycroft into a hug. He held him tight as Mycroft sobbed into his shirt. 

“I don’t want you to leave me!” Mycroft said in between his tears. Greg was taken slightly aback. 

“Leave you? Why would I leave you?”

“Because! Because my ex girlfriend called and told me that she’s pregnant! I got her pregnant Greg. And now you’re going to leave because it’s all too much!” He sobbed.

Greg froze. He had known Mycroft had been with women before him, they'd talked about it before.

“What?” Greg said, still stunned by the news. Mycroft looked into Greg’s eyes, tears still streaming down his face.

“I’m so sorry Gregory. We haven’t been going out for very long so I understand if you want to leave. It’s selfish of me to ask you to stay with me through this, but I love you.”

“You… love me?” Greg said. This was the first time either of them had said those words. It was true, they had only been going out a month but he felt like he’d known Mycroft forever. Mycroft simply nodded miserably in response.

Greg pulled Mycroft in for a deep, passionate, emotional kiss. “I love you too Myc, and that’s enough for me. Anything else that’s going on, we can deal with it. I’m not going anywhere.

***********************************************

Mycroft and Greg’s relationship continued to grow stronger in the coming months. It wasn’t long before Greg spent most of his nights at Mycroft’s place with him. Mycroft went to doctors appointments with June, and Greg was supportive and even excited about the baby. All was well in Mycroft's life until another unexpected phone call disrupted another of his evenings…

Mycroft and Greg were sat in the dining room just finishing dinner when Mycroft’s phone rang. He looked down at the number and was instantly filled with dread: The Royal London Hospital. He had received many calls from the hospital over the years, usually it was Sherlock who had overdosed or gotten himself shot. Anytime he saw the number of the hospital he always thought the worst. Sherlock was a reckless individual and Mycroft constantly worried if the phone call would be to inform him that his brother was dead.

Mycroft took a deep breath to calm himself and he picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Mr Mycroft Holmes?” a friendly sounding female voice replied.

“Yes, this is he.” 

“Hello Mr Holmes. I’m calling from The Royal London Hospital. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but June has suffered a second trimester miscarriage. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Mycroft’s blood ran cold in his veins. “She.. what?” He stammered.

“I’m sorry Mr Holmes. Unfortunately miscarriage happens to lots of women, there wasn’t anything that could’ve been done to prevent this. I know this is hard to hear. I can provide you with numbers for counselling services if you need them.” The female voice said, sounding sympathetic. Mycroft had stopped listening midway through. His mind stuck on the loss of the baby. His baby. Then he thought about June. June! Why wasn’t she the one calling?

“June! Is she..” He couldn’t bring himself to put his worries into words.

“June is doing alright, physically speaking. She’s recovering right now and asked for the message to be delivered by the staff.” The female operator stated.

"Oh.. Alright. When can I come see her?" Mycroft asked. He wanted to see June, to comfort her. He already felt the loss weighing heavily on him, and he wanted to be there for June.

"I'm sorry Mr Holmes. June has requested that you not be allowed to visit her. Hospital policy dictates that we not allow for any visitors that the patient has denied. I know that this will be difficult for you, but please keep in mind that this kind of tragedy is very difficult for everyone. Everybody grieves differently, but we must respect the patient's wishes."

Mycroft was filled with grief. He was devastated over the loss of the child that he never even had the chance to love. He was crushed that June didn't even want to see him. He wondered if she blamed him. Even if she did, he would never hold that against her. He just wanted to be there for her, to tell her that he would still support her.

"Oh… I… I understand. Thank you for informing me of the situation." Mycroft said formally, if not sadly to the poor woman on the other end tasked with delivering such terrible news.

Greg had been watching Mycroft discreetly through the whole conversation. He knew something was terribly wrong by the expression on his lover's face, and the pained tone in his voice. He wanted to hold Mycroft's hand through the whole conversation, to reassure him that he was there even though he didn't yet know the situation. Greg managed to control his protective instincts, he knew that his boyfriend was a private man, and would appreciate distance during his clearly difficult conversation. 

Mycroft hung up the phone and stood motionless in the middle of the dining room.

"Myc?' Greg tried, slowly moving towards him.

Mycroft just stood there, processing the news as the reality of it all came crashing down on top of him. He would never meet his son or daughter. This could've been his only chance at having a biological child. He had begun imagining spending time with his child, taking them on all sorts of outings to the playground, the zoo, anything they wanted. He had imagined walking hand in hand with Gregory, his child running ahead of them, excited for their day of adventure. He had pictured Christmas morning; June, Gregory and himself sitting on the sofa watching the little one opening gifts from the three of them. None of that would happen now. The woman he shared this horrible loss with didn't even want to see him. His heart ached and his stomach turned. He felt like he was going to vomit.

Greg approached Mycroft carefully, aware that he wasn't in tune with what was happening outside of his thoughts. He was anxious about what was happening, but determined to give Mycroft any comfort he could. He walked slowly up to his lover and ever so gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

Mycroft startled, suddenly jarred back to the present. He looked up at Gregory, his face was pale and full of concern and compassion. I was all too much to take. He collapsed into his lover's arms, sobbing so violently he couldn't support his own weight.

Greg tried to hold them both up for a moment, but quickly decided to lower them to the ground. They sat on the floor of the dining room, Greg practically cradling Mycroft in his lap, holding him tight as he came undone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know that I've been posting one chapter a day, I'm hoping you're loving reading this, as much as I love writing this. Unfortunately I have online school that I'm going to be doing so while I fully intend to be updating frequently, maybe it won't be EVERY day, but I sure will try! Stay safe and healthy everyone!

_ Life, Death and Love _

_ Chapter 3 _

Life at 221B Baker Street had been relatively normal over the past three months. Well, as normal as life could be in a flat occupied by Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson. There had been body parts in fridges, cases and bickering. The game had been on and the game had been off. Cases had been solved, Sherlock had been BORED and John had blogged. Of course, one topic hadn’t bored Sherlock or his resident blogger: the topic of the elder Holmes and his personal life.

Sherlock and John had long become friends with Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade and when he had started going out with Mycroft, both Baker Street boys had been happy for them. Sometimes the three of them would go out for a pint at the local pub after a case had been solved (Mycroft never attended as it was “unbecoming of a respectable politician to be seen at such a lowly establishment). It was at one of these friendly gatherings that Greg had told his mates about June’s pregnancy.

“Holy shit! You can’t be serious!” The doctor exclaimed.

“Yeah, that was kinda how I felt too.” Greg admitted.

“And you’re going to keep going out with him despite this because you’ve become unexplainably infatuated with my brother after having been dating him for only a month. Of course, he’s also become quite enamored with you which is why he probably begged you to stay.” Sherlock deduced.

“Sherlock!” John chastised, unimpressed yet unsurprised by his flatmate’s undelicate deducing. 

Greg just chuckled. “Yes Sherlock, your brother and I are madly in love and we have some pretty great sex too.” He teased with a shit-eating grin.

John burst out laughing and Sherlock’s porcelain-coloured cheeks got a little red colouring. Once John had recovered from the outburst he turned to Greg seriously.

“Really though mate, that's a lot. How are you feeling about it?” 

Greg considered this for a moment. “Honestly, I don’t know. Mycroft has made it clear that he’s committed to me, but he really wants to be a part of the child’s life and to support June through all of this. I respect that. They’ve talked about co-parenting and Mycroft wants me to be part of that equation too, and I think that it’s kinda great.”

“Well I think that that’s really amazing Greg. I’m sure that all of you will figure it out, and I respect the hell out of you for being so willing.” John said, smiling at his friend.

“Yes. I’m sure that it would fare well for the child to have an actual masculine figure in it’s life. Mycroft would hardly be a good role model for anything dirty or physical. He would have the child practicing math instead of kicking a football.” Sherlock stated stoically, but with humor in his eyes. They all laughed.

"Well lads, I think it's time for me to be off. I don't want to be late for dinner with Myc." Greg announced, standing up and grabbing his coat off the back of his chair.

"Alright, if you need anything feel free to call anytime. Sherlock and I are here to support you." John said. Sherlock gave a curt nod to Greg who waved goodbye to them both and left.

"Do you think that this'll turn out alright for them?" John asked, picking up his pint glass.

"Hm, hard to say. I can't imagine Mycroft with a child, considering how he was when I was young. And if Lestrade hasn't run for the hills yet, I doubt he ever will. In any case, as long as Mycroft is occupied and out of my business I'll be pleased." Sherlock said. 

John grinned. "You know you can be a real cock, right?" Sherlock smirked. They finished up their drinks while talking about their latest case, both of their minds still pondering Greg's unexpected announcement.

********************************************************************************************************

Two months later, Sherlock and John were sitting at the kitchen table discussing their latest case. A serial killer was running rampant around London, strangling victims with piano string and leaving a piece of sheet music at the crime scene.

"I'm telling you, he's obviously a member of the orchestra!" John said, exasperated.

"No John. You SEE but you don't OBSERVE. Clearly it's a woman. She wasn't good enough to be in the orchestra so she's seeking vengeance on those who discouraged her!" Sherlock said excitedly. "We must go to the Yard and have Lestrade take us back to the crime scene. There has to be something we missed!"

Sherlock got up and put on his coat. He ran down the stairs to hail a cab, John rushing to catch up with him.

Once at Scotland Yard, the pair headed to the Detective Inspector's office, only to find it empty.

"That's odd. It isn't like Greg not to be here when we have an ongoing investigation." John remarked.

"Who cares about Greg? We need to find Lestrade!" Sherlock said, annoyed.

John shook his head. "Sherlock, for the last time. Lastrade's first name IS Greg. I swear, for a genius you really are thick." 

Just then, the doctor caught sight of Donovan walking to the coffee maker. "Look, let's ask Donovan where he is. Perhaps they needed his help on another case." 

Sherlock and John made their way to Sally.

"Oh. The freak's here. You're still hanging around with him? " Donovan said, addressing John.

"We haven't got time for your stupidity right now. Where's Lestrade?" Sherlock demanded.

"Bad news, he won't be in for the rest of the week. He said something about a family emergency. Guess you'll have to find some other way to get off in the mean time." Sally said, taking her coffee and walking away.

"That's a shame. I hope he's alright." The good doctor said, concerned.

"Yes. The detective is fine but my brother clearly isn't. He doesn't speak with his parents and never takes time off for himself during a case. He's obviously off dealing with Mycroft." Sherlock deduced, mind spinning with possible scenarios for Lestrade's disappearance.

The two returned to their flat where John immediately took out his mobile to phone Greg.

It rang three times before the detective picked up. "Hello John." He said, his voice sounding tired and sad.

"Hello Greg, we heard that you had to take the week off. Is everything alright?" 

There was a pause before Greg spoke again. "No. Honestly John nothing is alright right now. I can't tell you any more right now, I don't want to upset Myc."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Greg. Is there anything we can do?"

Greg sighed. "No, not really. Can I come over tonight? I could use someone to talk to, and I could really use a stiff drink." 

"Of course you can, whatever you need!" John said, worried.

"Thanks mate. I'll be over at around 8, after Myc's gone to sleep." Said Greg.

They said their goodbyes and hung up. John turned to Sherlock.

"Well, you were right. Something is seriously wrong with Mycroft. He couldn't even tell me on the phone because he didn't want to upset him. He said he'd come over at around 8 after Mycroft was asleep, which is also odd because I didn't think Mycroft ever slept." 

Sherlock wore a somber expression on his face. "He sleeps all the time when he's depressed. You're right John, something serious has happened."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for all the Kudos and hits on this story so far! I didn't expect so many people to read it :) Trigger warnings in this chapter include descriptions of self-harm and also implied self-harm. If you're sensitive to this, then feel free not not read, I just want everyone to be safe and comfortable! Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think, or even constructive criticism! Thanks for reading!

_ Life, Death and Love _

_ Chapter 4 _

John put out some snacks on the kitchen table as well as some red wine. Sherlock sat and watched him.

“Aren’t you worried Sherlock?” Asked John.

"Worried? What use is it to worry? Nothing can possibly change just because I feel bad about it, so I'd much rather save my energy for more important things." Replied Sherlock stoically.

John rolled his eyes and continued to prepare for Greg's visit. He was clearly not doing well, so the good doctor wanted to do anything he could to make his friend more comfortable. He also knew that Sherlock was definitely worried too, he was surely going through possible scenarios in his mind but would never say anything because of  _ sentiment. _

Greg arrived at 221B Baker Street at 8:10. As soon as he came through the door both Sherlock and John could see how exhausted and clearly distraught he looked.

"Hey mate. I've laid out some snacks if you fancy something to eat, or I have lots of red wine if you'd just prefer a drink." John announced, with forced enthusiasm.

Greg smiled wearily and took a biscuit and poured a large glass of wine before making his way to the sofa. "Thanks John. You really didn't have to do all of this."

"Oh it's no bother! It's good to see you Greg." John said sincerely.

"While I would absolutely love to have small talk with the two of you all night, we all know why you're here. What's wrong with Mycroft?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

John was ashamedly too curious and concerned to chastise Sherlock for his bad manners. "But take your time, no rush." The doctor added.

Greg sighed sadly and swirled his wine. "Well, the hospital called three nights ago. June lost the baby, and she ordered the hospital staff to keep Mycroft from visiting her." 

John gasped audibly. "Oh that's terrible! I'm so sorry. Poor Mycroft, he must be devastated."

Sherlock just looked on silently, seemingly contemplating the news. When John glanced over at him, he was sure he could see a hint of sorrow in his flatmate's expression.

"Yeah. It's really taking a toll on him. He's hardly gotten out of bed or had a bite to eat since the phone call. Whenever I try and talk to him he either cries or just remains silent. It's scaring the hell out of me." Greg said, sounding on the verge of tears.

"He's having a depressive episode." Sherlock said quietly.

Both John and Greg turned to look at him.

"Well, I mean of course he's depressed. Anyone would be." John said, and Greg nodded in agreement. 

Sherlock shook his head. "Mycroft has struggled with depression since we were young. He would go through periods of time where he wouldn't eat or leave his room. Our parents had him to a therapist countless times. He would always recover from it but in times of stress he often falls back in again."

Sherlock thought back to his childhood. He knew when Mycroft was doing poorly and would try and go cheer him up. His brother would just ignore him and lay in bed. 

He remembered his parents going into Mycroft's one evening when he was about 7 and his elder brother 14. He remembered hearing yelling and his mother crying. He had run to the doorway to see what was happening. Mycroft had been sitting on the edge of his bed, his left arm extended and blood dripping from a half dozen cuts lining his forearm. The memory of the scene still haunted Sherlock as an adult. He elected not to tell his friends about that particular situation. After months of therapy, Mycroft had stopped harming himself. The last time he'd relapsed was 10 years ago when their father had had a heart attack and was hospitalized.

Greg and John were surprised to hear that Mycroft was depressed. He'd always seemed so put together; but then again when a Holmes didn't want you to know something, chances are you'd never find out.

"Do you think he'll feel better once he's had time to grieve?" Greg asked.

"No, it isn't likely. Once he gets like this, he doesn't usually come out of it without extensive care and aid." Sherlock said.

"So how do I help him? It kills me to see him like this." Greg said miserably.

Sherlock thought for a moment. "We'll give him another few days to grieve, and then I'll come and assess him. In the mean time, don't leave him alone for long periods of time." Sherlock said, suspecting that Mycroft had already picked up his old habit given the circumstances. 

Greg didn't stay very much longer. He was anxious to get back home to Mycroft and neither Sherlock or John could blame him. 

After he'd left and John had cleaned up, he sat down in the living room and turned to Sherlock. "Are you alright? I mean, I had no idea that you had to help Mycroft through this as a child. It can't have been easy on you." John said sympathetically.

Sherlock simply shrugged. "It's fine John. The past is behind me." What Sherlock knew that his flatmate didn't understand was that Mycroft's past was very much in their present and future.

******************************************

Mycroft woke in the middle of the night. His mind was foggy, his body ached. He felt exhausted even though he knew he had been in bed for probably closer to two days now. Two days that felt to him like two years. His mind was full of agonizing thoughts. Thoughts about his lost child, about how he ruined June's life. How was he going to stop himself from ruining Gregory's life as well? Tears were now running down his face, but he forced his breathing to remain normal as to not disturb his boyfriend sleeping next to him.

He felt like hell. He was nauseous and his head pounded. He felt both overwhelmingly sad and numb at the same time. How was that even possible? He absently ran his fingers over his left forearm. He pictured the completely faded scars that from years ago and pressed into the newly healing cuts that were just a day old. He needed this.

Mycroft got up ever so slowly and quietly from the bed he and Gregory shared. He was immediately overcome with a dizzy spell and nearly fell over. When was the last time he ate? He didn't really care. He walked past his boyfriend's side of the bed and looked at his sleeping form.

" _ God, even in his sleep he looks distraught. I'm doing this to him."  _ He thought to himself. his thoughts worsened the ache in his heart. He felt that he deserved every bit of the punishment he was about to inflict upon himself. 

Mycroft made his way into the on suite and locked the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! Back at it again for another chapter! I've just been so into writing this story that I'm writing in all of my spare time (and due to all the stuff going on, I have a lot of it!). So this chapter is the longest so far, I hope you're all into that! Thanks as always for reading!

_ Life, Love and Death _

_ Chapter 5 _

Per Sherlock's instructions, Greg monitored Mycroft closely for the next couple of days. He managed to get Mycroft to eat a few slices of toast. The elder Holmes was still unable to manage much conversation, but Greg had convinced him to sit and watch a movie with him on the living room sofa. After the movie Mycroft had immediately went to the bathroom where he took a shower (a really long shower Greg had remarked to himself) and went back to bed where he stayed until the next morning when the Detective Inspector knew Sherlock would be arriving to check in.

Greg got up early and went to the kitchen to make coffee. No sooner had he sat down at the table with his mug did he get a text from Sherlock.

_ I will be over in an hour. Don't tell my brother I'm coming. Upon my arrival, tell him you're going to the yard and then take a cab to Baker Street. John will be waiting on you. -SH _

He sighed. He didn't really want to leave Mycroft in the state that he was in, but he also knew that Sherlock had far more experience in helping with Mycroft's problems than he did. At least he would have John to keep him company.

Greg finished up his coffee and thought about making some breakfast. He was too nervous to eat, Sherlock didn’t eat and Mycroft wouldn’t eat. He decided against it, he simply put his coffee mug in the sink and sat down to wait for Sherlock.

Sherlock arrived exactly one hour after he sent the text. Greg let him in with a weary smile.

"Hey Sherlock. Mycroft is still sleeping so I'll go wake him. Just, please be gentle with him." He couldn't help but offer a protective warning on behalf of his boyfriend.

"I will do whatever necessary to help my brother, I promise you." Sherlock said confidently. Somehow that didn't make Greg feel very much better.

Greg creeped into the bedroom and walked over to his sleeping boyfriend. He gently put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it softly to wake him.

"Hey love, sorry to wake you. I just wanted to let you know that I'm headed to the yard." 

Mycroft cracked one eye open. It took a moment for his tired mind to process what Gregory had told him, but when he did he simply nodded in reply. He wouldn’t mind being left alone for the day. Nobody would try and make him eat or talk and there was no risk that Gregory would see his arm. 

Greg went back to Sherlock and informed him that he had woken Mycroft. He then put on his coat and headed downstairs to hail a cab.

As soon as Greg had left, Sherlock got to work. He quietly made a small breakfast that he would force Mycroft to consume, as well as coffee for the both of them. On the kitchen counter, he set out the supplies he brought: rubbing alcohol and bandages. Once he was pleased with his prep, he headed towards the bedroom.

Sherlock burst through the door with a forced bounce in his step. “Good morning brother mine! Time to get up. I’ve prepared breakfast.” Sherlock announced cheerily.

Mycroft nearly jumped out of his skin upon Sherlock’s arrival. He had fallen back to sleep thinking that he was going to be left alone and now his brother was here. When had he gotten here? Why was he here? Dread settled in the pit of his stomach. Sherlock knew.

Mycroft forced himself into a sitting position in bed and gave Sherlock his best death stare. “Leave. Now.” He growled.

Sherlock sat down on the bed next to him. “We both know that isn’t going to happen. So, we can do this the easy way, or my way.” Sherlock said.

Mycroft knew there was no way Sherlock was going to leave. That didn’t mean he had to make whatever Sherlock had planned easy for him. 

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Solving a case? Perhaps frequenting a drug den?” Mycroft sneered.

Sherlock felt bad for Mycroft. He looked as dreadful as he had ever seen him. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked very pale. His words that would usually be condescending lacked all bite. He looked exhausted and miserable. Sherlock genuinely didn’t want to cause Mycroft any more discomfort, but from his experience the only way to start to help his brother was to force him to get moving again.

“Mycroft, I’m here because I care. Greg is worried sick about you but he doesn’t know how to help you the way I do. Please, you really do have to get up.” Sherlock said sincerely.

“Help me!? How could you possibly help me? Whatever you have planned won’t do a thing to change anything! My baby would still be dead and it would still be my fault!” Mycroft yelled and then he dissolved into uncontrollable sobbing.

Sherlock quickly took Mycroft into his arms. He gently rocked them back and forth whispering “I’m here, I’ve got you” over and over.

They stayed like that until Mycroft’s sobs had subsided into sniffling. Sherlock gently turned Mycroft’s tear-stained face to look at him.

“I know you’re in pain. I know this is hard. Let me take care of you brother dear.” He said gently. Mycroft nodded weakly.

Sherlock helped Mycroft out of bed and practically carried him to the kitchen. His brother was weak from crying and not eating anything but a few pieces of toast for a week. They made their way to the kitchen where Sherlock set his brother down in front of his cold breakfast.

“Here, let’s heat this up shall we?” Sherlock said grabbing the plate of scrambled eggs and toast and popping it in the microwave. He also reheated the coffee and sat down across from Mycroft.

With a trembling hand, Mycroft picked up his fork and took a small bite of egg. He grimaced. “I can’t do it. I’m going to be sick.”

“Yes you can do it and you must. You won’t throw up I promise. Your body needs the food.” Sherlock encouraged.

Mycroft sighed and picked up the fork again. Another painful bite. The food felt awful in his mouth and he had to force himself to keep chewing. He managed four more bites and then pushed his plate away.

“I’m done. I really can’t do anymore.” Mycroft said.

Sherlock was more than a little concerned but was satisfied with the answer. The day wasn’t going to be easy so he figured it would do no good to expend all of Mycroft’s patience and energy right away.

“It’s alright, you did well.” Sherlock reassured, clearing the plate. He scraped the leftovers into the bin and grabbed his supplies. He walked back to the table and gently set the items on it, pulling up a chair directly beside his brother.

As soon as Mycroft saw the alcohol and bandages he began to panic. He wasn’t ready to show Sherlock the damage he had done. He wasn’t ready to show anyone. All he wanted was to crawl back in bed and stay there forever.

Sherlock recognized the panic in Mycroft’s expression. “It’s ok Mycroft. I’m not here to judge. I know you’re going through a lot right now, I’m only here to look after you.”

Mycroft crossed his arms. “I-I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I’m tired Sherlock, I’m going back to bed.” He made a move to stand up but the younger Holmes put a firm hand on his shoulder to make him stay put.

“Brother dear, you must stop resisting. We both know that I’m aware of everything that’s going on. We’ve dealt with this before. It’s alright” Sherlock reassured. 

Mycroft still didn’t want to but he recognized that he had no other choice. He extended his left arm to his brother, refusing to look at him.

Sherlock gently rolled up his sleeve and had to hold back a gasp. There were approximately 20 cuts that lined his forearm, some looked deep enough that he should have gotten stitches. This was bad. Mycroft was worse off than Sherlock had initially thought. Thankfully, none of the cuts looked to be infected but Sherlock knew Mycroft hadn’t cleaned them properly.

“This will sting a bit.” Sherlock said, pouring the rubbing alcohol on a cotton pad. He gently disinfected Mycroft’s arm. Some of the newer cuts opened back up and bled a little. Mycroft winced. “Sorry.” Sherlock said, not stopping his first aid.

He finished disinfecting and wrapped a bandage around the whole of Mycroft’s forearm. “There we go. All done!” Sherlock said cheerily. Mycroft still refused to look at him.

Mycroft wasn’t really embarrassed. Sherlock had cleaned him up before. He was as aware as Sherlock that he had gone a little far this time though. He didn’t care. He deserved the pain. He needed it.

Sherlock knew he wasn’t going to get any sort of response out of his brother, so he set about cleaning the supplies up. Mycroft just sat in the kitchen chair, staring vacantly at the wall. When everything was put away, Sherlock silently helped Mycroft back to the bedroom where he immediately buried himself under the covers.

Sherlock proceeded into the on-suit where he searched top to bottom for all sharp objects. He wrapped the three razors he found in bathroom tissue and placed them in his pocket to dispose of when he left. He went back into the bedroom where he found Mycroft sound asleep again. Sherlock sat in the chair in the corner where he had a good view of his brother and began browsing crime forums on his mobile.

*****************************************************

Greg pulled back up to Mycroft’s house at dinner. He brought with him takeaway from Angelo's. He was anxious to get back to his boyfriend and to hear Sherlock’s diagnoses.

He came through the door and set the food on the kitchen table. The house was silent. It was only a moment before Sherlock emerged from the bedroom.

“Hello Sherlock. I’ve brought dinner. Do you think Mycroft might come out and eat?”

Sherlock sighed. “No. That's highly unlikely. He’s in bad shape. He’s been asleep all afternoon and I doubt he’s going to get up anytime soon.”

“Oh, alright. Then I supposed it’s just the two of us for dinner.” Greg said, trying to mask his sadness and disappointment.

They sat down on the sofa in the living room and turned on the tele. Neither of them watched it, they were both thinking about the British Government.

Greg was the first to speak. “So, when you say bad shape… how bad is it?”

“He’s worse off than I thought. We need to get him to see a therapist soon, someone who makes house calls. I don’t think we’ll be able to get him to leave the house.” Sherlock said somberly.

Greg nodded. “Alright, we can do that.”

“There’s something you need to know. My brother has a history of self-harming and I’m afraid that he’s begun doing it again. You can’t leave him alone, for his own safety.” Sherlock said gently.

Greg was heartbroken. He had no idea that Mycroft had been hurting himself. Tears began to form in his eyes and he didn’t bother to wipe them away. Sherlock placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“We can get through this.” He said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! Sorry about the wait for this chapter! I got a little busy with life, but here it is nonetheless! Hope you all enjoy it!

_ Life, Death and Love _

_ Chapter 6 _

Mycroft felt like he was being smothered. Since Sherlock’s intrusion two days prior, Gregory hadn’t left his side for more than a few moments at a time. He figured Sherlock must have told him about his troubling little… habit… His boyfriend was monitoring him constantly. He made meals consistently that he brought into the bedroom on a tray. He would then watch patiently and encourage him to eat. To not hurt him anymore than he already was, Mycroft would choke down a few bites and was left feeling nauseous for hours after the fact. He never spoke to Gregory, he just couldn’t find the right words to say. He could see how much his condition was killing his lover. Mycroft obviously knew that he had been losing weight, but was troubled to notice that the detective was also losing weight. He saw how tired and sad his eyes looked. Why did he always hurt the ones he loved? How long until Mycroft destroyed Gregory the same way he destroyed June? He had to break up with him. It was the only way for the detective inspector to survive. He knew it would hurt him, but Gregory would get better and Mycroft knew that he himself never would.

Mycroft agonized over his choice for a few more days before he finally built up the courage to do it. Gregory was sitting on the armchair in the bedroom and Mycroft was in bed, where he had been almost every second of every day for the last two weeks.

“Gregory?” Mycroft said softly. 

Greg was startled from the book he had been reading. He’d grown accustomed to the silence. “Yes? Do you need anything?” He asked, concerned.

Mycroft schooled his expression and took a deep breath. “Gregory, you have to go. This isn’t going to work. You’ve been truly wonderful but I can’t do this anymore.”

Greg was surprised and a little hurt. “What do you mean Myc? You’re sick right now and that’s alright. I’m here for you.”

“No. I don’t want you to be here for me any longer. This isn’t working.” Mycroft said, trying to be stern and internally hoping that Gregory would just leave. He didn’t want to have to convince him to go by hurting him further.

“What? No, Myc. I can’t just leave you like this! I want to be here for you, we’re going to get through this.” Greg walked over and sat on the bed. He took Mycroft’s hand into his own. “I’m here for you Myc. Through all of this. Tell me what you need and I’ll do it. I just want you to feel better.”

Mycroft’s heart broke. He knew that Gregory was sincere, but where Mycroft was headed; he knew that he couldn’t bring the detective inspector down with him. He was going to have to chase Gregory away, no matter how much it pained him.

“But that’s the point Gregory. I don’t want you to be here anymore. You aren’t helping me. You’re only making it worse.” 

Mycroft’s words were a blow to Greg’s heart. He had done nothing but support him. He looked after him, made him meals, let him cry on his shoulder. How could Mycroft say that to him? He couldn’t hold back the tears that formed in his eyes.

“Worse!? You know what Mycroft? If my help is so bad for you then I will leave! I’ve been worried sick about you for weeks and this is how you’re responding to my constant care!?” He was yelling now but he couldn’t stop himself. He was so hurt and upset.

Mycroft looked him in the eyes. “I never asked for your help, and I never wanted it.” He said coldly.

That was it. The last straw. Greg got up and stormed out of the room. He took his coat and walked out the front door, slamming it behind him. Tears were streaming down his face but he didn’t care. He didn’t need Mycroft. If he didn’t want the help, if he couldn’t appreciate everything that had been done for him then sod him! Sod it all! What he didn’t know was that what he’d left behind in the apartment was a man who was completely broken. Who would sob uncontrollably until he threw up. Who was about to make one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

********************************************************

Sherlock had been keeping updated on Mycroft's condition since his visit. Lestrade would send him a text everyday, mostly he wouldn't report anything new. Sherlock didn't expect Mycroft's condition to change much. He had gone to assess the situation and to get the Detective Inspector to take precautions to ensure Mycroft's safety. He knew the only way Mycroft was going to get better was through therapy and most likely fairly strong medication, as had been the case in the past. Sherlock was looking at therapists for his brother. He carefully read profiles and even ran background checks. He had finally found a suitable doctor and made an appointment for him to see Mycroft. 

The wait time for the appointment was to be three weeks, Sherlock figured as much. Good therapists were in high demand. He was confident that Lestrade would keep him safe and looked after until the appointment, and he himself was checking in without intruding too much on his brother's space. He knew Mycroft would only get upset with him, and that's not what he needed.

One week before the scheduled therapy session, Sherlock was sitting in the living room in his mind palace. It was late in the evening, but John had a late night shift at the clinic and Sherlock was waiting up for him. The sound of his mobile ringing brought him out of his mind palace. It was Mycroft.

"Hello Mycroft, everything alright? It's rather late, I'd of expected you to be sleeping." 

Heavy breathing came through the line. "Ssssherlock. I seem to haaave made a messs. You need to, need to come." Came Mycroft's slurred voice. Clearly very drunk, this wasn't good.

"Hey, hey alright. It's alright. I'll be there soon. Where's Lestrade?" Sherlock asked, already getting up. He was now very worried that Mycroft was drunk and alone and had more than likely hurt himself.

"I told him to gooo. Couldn't…. couldn't let him see…" Mycroft's voice seemed to be fading.

"Mycroft? Couldn't let him see what? Keep talking to me." Sherlock ordered. He now had his shoes on and was retrieving his coat from the closet. 

"Couldn't let him…let him see me die…"


End file.
